RETURN
by Patcat
Summary: What may happen
1. Chapter 1

RETURN

Bobby Goren blinked as his eyes adjusted to the bar's dim interior. The mid February day was surprisingly bright and mild, pleasant enough to raise Bobby's suspicions. Nothing good could happen on such a beautiful day. He stood and surveyed the bar. It wasn't, fortunately, a cop hangout, but cops did occasionally visit it to meet with assistant Das and other legal types. It wasn't the sort of place Bobby would've selected for this particular meeting with Bill Hannah, and Bobby wondered why Bill Hannah had picked it. The Bill Hannah Bobby knew had little use for lawyers or the Brass, but he knew that Bill Hannah a long time ago. He dimly recalled Hannah's presence at Danny Ross' funeral, and Bobby remembered acknowledging a gift from the Hannah family to the local mental health society after his mother's funeral. Bill Hannah was one of the few people aside from Alex Eames who knew something about the chaos of Bobby's family.

Bobby moved cautiously through the bar. It wasn't crowded, but dark and full of nooks and crannies.

"Figures," Bobby thought. "Lawyers like to make deals in the dark..."

"Bobby. Bobby Goren. Over here."

Bobby turned to his right. He recognized Bill Hannah's voice, and followed it to a man sitting in a booth in one of the crannies. He was older, of course, his body heavier and his hair thinner, but still recognizably Bill Hannah. His voice was warm, and Bobby realized he was glad that Bill Hannah seemed glad to see him.

"Hannah," Bobby said and shifted his binder from his right hand to his left. Hannah slipped from the booth and stood. He shook Bobby's hand, hesitated, and then pulled Bobby into a hug. Bobby returned the hug, awkwardly at first and then relaxing.

"It's good to see you, Bobby," Hannah said. "It's been too long. Way too long."

"Yea. It has. It's good to see you too."

"C'mon. Sit down and let me buy you a drink. You still drink that expensive stuff?"

Bobby slid into the booth across from Hannah. "I do. Not as much as I used to."

"I've cut back myself. You get older, you know?"

"Yea..."

"You remember that old Captain at the 44th? Always said getting older in this job is an accomplishment."

"Yea." Bobby nodded his thanks to the waitress who placed a drink before him. "O'Hanlan, right?"

"You always had a great memory. One of the many things that make you a great detective."

Bobby noted that Hannah used the present tense. He wondered if his former partner knew that Bobby was no longer a member of the NYPD.

"You were always good at the job," Hannah continued. "Except for the politics. I tried to warn you that might bite you some day."

"It did," Bobby admitted. "It took a while, but it did."

"Politics have bitten a lot of good cops," Hannah said. "And you were always one of the best."

Bobby stared into his glass. "I tried to be. I was lucky for a long time. Had two great captains. And a great partner. They protected me."

"I've heard about that." Hannah sipped his drink. "The only thing I really regretted about leaving Narcotics—and it was a big thing—was that I left a great partner. One that I knew some people in the NYPD didn't appreciate."

Bobby reddened.

"But," Hannah continued. "They're some who did—and do—appreciate you."

"I take it you're in that group."

"Yes. I take it you don't know everything that's been going on?"

Bobby shook his head. "You seem to know I've been away. I just got back in the city yesterday. I gather there have been some shakeups."

"That's a bit of an understatement."

Bobby studied his former partner. Bill Hannah played things close to the vest. He held a reputation as one of the best poker players in the NYPD, and Bobby had lost a few hands to the man before he decided playing cards with Hannah was too harmful to his wallet. Soon after that Bobby began to regard Hannah as a friend. He wasn't certain about how Hannah felt about him until the night Bobby fought through a painful haze to hear Hannah forcefully telling a nurse that no one kept Bill Hannah away from a friend, especially when that friend had just saved Bill Hannah's life. Bobby had drifted back into unconsciousness, partly from the shot the nurse gave him, and partly from his brain's efforts to comprehend Bill Hannah was his friend.

Bobby slowly turned his glass in his hand. "It's been a while since I played poker with you. But you have that look on your face you used to have when you were about to drop four aces on the table."

Hannah smiled. "Well, I've either just been dealt a great hand or gotten dumped on. I've just been named head of Major Case."

Bobby couldn't hide his reaction of surprise and happiness. "Great. Really great. I'm happy for you. Really happy...But..." He frowned.

"I'm not sure what led up to it," Hannah said. "The last captain had nothing to do with the mess. The word is that she was tired of the politics. And maybe some personal issues."

Bobby sat quietly. Politics had hurt him; worse, it had hurt his friends.

"She wasn't a friend of Kenny Moran," Hannah said. "Who I gather isn't one of your favorite people."

Bobby wished he'd kept better track of Bill Hannah's progress through the NYPD. He didn't think Hannah was an associate of Kenny Moran. But Danny Ross once told Bobby that he didn't recognize Kenny Moran as the cop he'd first met when both were new uniforms.

"Well," Bobby said deliberately. "He did give me a second chance."

Hannah smiled slightly. "You've developed some diplomatic skills. Some of Jimmy Deakins must have rubbed off on you."

"That might not be a bad thing." Bobby mused.

"He's told me a lot of you and Alex Eames rubbed off on him. And that was a very good thing."

Bobby stared into his drink. "Eames...Maybe. But me?"

"I can tell you," Hannah said. "Jimmy Deakins' good opinion of someone goes a long way with me. And if anyone is in Kenny Moran's bad graces, I'd say that was a good thing."

"I'm doubly blessed?"

"Yes," Hannah said. "The thing is, Goren, I need people I can trust at Major Case. Some good people have left."

"I heard from Zach Nichols," Bobby said. "When I was in England...On my way back...I met him. I guess it wasn't just the politics that caused him to leave, but they certainly didn't help."

"You know Nichols?"

"Not that well." Bobby liked Zach Nichols, and had started to hope he might be on friendly terms with the man. Bobby had never had so many friends that he could afford to lose one, even a potential one. "But I liked him. An interesting and intelligent mind."

"Great compliment, considering the source," Hannah said. "I'm sorry I'm not going to get to know him."

"What," Bobby said. "Have you been doing anyway?"

Hannah smiled again. "I could tell you, but then I might have to have your brain washed. And I suspect if you told me what you've been doing, you'd have to do the same to me."

Bobby leaned forward, and Hannah got his first really close and clear look at his old partner. His first impression was that Bobby Goren looked good. His face was lean and tanned; his eyes as bright and intense as Hannah remembered. But a closer look through Hannah's experienced eyes caught the dark shadows beneath Goren's eyes, the tension in his shoulders, and the slight twitch in his hands.

"I was completing a mission for a...a friend," Bobby said.

"Was it successful?"

Bobby shrugged. "Depends on how you define success. The people running it thought so."

"And what are your plans?"

Bobby studied Hannah, who'd resumed his poker face.

"I'm not sure," Bobby said. "I've got a bit of a cushion. Thanks to the operation and the package I got from the department to keep me quiet. Considering what's going on, I suppose I could still cause trouble."

"But you won't," Hannah said. "Because you made a deal."

Bobby shifted. "Yea...No need to embarrass the department. Especially when it's so good at doing it to itself."

Hannah finished his drink. "What would you say to being part of Major Case again?"

The question, coming after Hannah's careful approach, wasn't unexpected. Throughout his mission, Bobby wondered what he would do if the NYPD wanted him back.

"I would," Bobby said. "If I could work with one particular good cop."

"Alex Eames."

"Yes," Bobby said. "Things were good with you. But with Eames." Bobby tightly gripped his glass. "She got me. I...I got her most of the time. And even when we didn't get each other, we could talk about it. She'd listen. And I finally learned to listen to her."

"You know what she did?"

Bobby stared at the table. "I...I heard about it. I took off on the mission right after I left Major Case. She wrote me." Bobby's hands splayed on the table. The letter he'd received from Alex filled him with hope and joy when he saw its return address. He'd sent her a brief and totally inadequate note through his handlers to let her know that he was alive and how to reach him if she wanted, and he was thrilled that she responded. And then he read the words written in her neat, precise hand.

"I resigned from the NYPD. Don't blame yourself, Bobby."

Of course he blamed himself. If Alex hadn't had Bobby Goren hanging like an anchor around her neck, she'd be a captain. Maybe even a Chief, even Chief of Detectives. That would have been good for everyone. In his few letters to Alex during his mission, Bobby wrote very little about his feelings. He wrote very little about anything, actually, beyond letting her know he was all right and he missed New York and her.

"I feel better knowing you're alive," Alex wrote him, and he could at least let her know that.

"Do you know what she's been doing?" Hannah asked.

"She's picked up some work from our former captain." Bobby smiled sadly. "Who's been vindicated by all of the mess."

"Rumors are that the department wants him back."

Bobby shook his head. "It won't get him. He's happy. He's got work he likes. It pays a lot more. He gets home every night to be with his wife. He won't come back. Not after the way he was treated."

"And Bobby Goren won't come back unless Alex Eames is his partner?"

"Yes."

Hannah shook his head. "No salary demands? No discussion of benefits?"

"They don't mean much if I'm miserable and don't have the support to do the job," Bobby said.

"Does she want to come back?"

Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know if she wants to come back at all, let alone work with me. We've never discussed it." In truth, Alex's desire to stay in touch with him shocked and thrilled him so much that he didn't dare to bring up anything. Her letters said little about the NYPD beyond a few comments that Kenny Moran's treatment of her and Bobby was a factor in the Chief's downfall.

"You haven't talked to her yet?"

"Not yet. The mission ended...abruptly. Things moved really quickly." Bobby smiled wanly. "I was under wraps until my debriefing was over. I tried to reach her when I got back in the city yesterday, but she's away with her family for a few days. That time is sacred. I won't touch it."

"She'll be back soon?"

"Tomorrow."

"I can use all the good detectives I can get. I know you. I want you. I thought it would take a lot more to get you back. And I know Eames is a great cop."

"The best," Bobby said. "The best cop. And the best person."

"I'll talk to her," Hannah said. "Do you want to talk to her first?"

Bobby sat for a moment. "Would you still want her if you couldn't have me?"

"With her record, and what you've said about her," Hannah said. "I'd be an idiot to not want her."

Bobby took a deep breath. "Ok. I'll talk to her."

End Chapter ONe

"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Alex carefully eased her car into the tiny space. Her parallel parking skills, always remarkably good, had improved since her departure from the NYPD. She could no longer depend on her badge providing access to parking forbidden to civilians. She'd never depended on her badge for that sort of privilege, but she acknowledged knowing it was there in case of an emergency had been a comforting thought.

To her surprise, several things had improved since her departure. She hadn't had time to update her resume before several job offers came. She took one from her former captain because she knew she would be comfortable working with and for Jimmy Deakins, and if another position appeared she could leave with few complications. To her shock, the pay was better than what the city of New York considered her worth. Combined with Joe's pension and the settlement her union rep got for her after she threatened to reveal the circumstances surrounding Alex's departure from the NYPD, the salary meant Alex sat in a very comfortable financial nest. The hours of her new job were regular, and she enjoyed weekly dinners with her family and got to attend her nephew Nate's basketball games, school functions, and hang out with the boy. She reached her own bed at roughly the same hour every night and read several books that had been waiting for her on her bedside table. She discovered some of the television programs her sisters and sisters in law had raved about, and she even went out on things that might be described as dates with thoroughly respectable men who had nothing to do with New York City's criminal element.

And she was unhappy.

Well, Alex thought as she gathered up her purse and locked her car, not horribly unhappy, but certainly not content. She missed the NYPD. It was her family. She'd dreamed of being a New York cop since she could remember. One of her first appearances in the family photo album showed her wrestling with the cap from her father's uniform. She knew she did the right thing in leaving the department. She explained—continued to explain—her reasons to anyone who asked, to her family, her friends, to other members of the NYPD. In recent months, as the ties between Frank Adair and Kenny Moran became clear, and Kenny Moran sank in the swamp of his own muck, Alex couldn't help but feel some vindication. But this gave her little joy. For all that it done to her, to her family, to Bobby Goren, Alex Eames loved the NYPD and hated to see it suffer.

And she missed being a detective. She knew she would've hated being a captain. It would've taken her away from being a detective. No more investigations, no more interviews with suspects, no more dirty work like dumpster diving, no more agonizing visits to survivors—things she didn't miss. But there were other things—saving people, busting perps, solving problems—that she loved and missed terribly. And she especially missed working with Bobby Goren. She meant what she'd said the last time she saw Bobby. He was the best. The most brilliant, the hardest working, the most ethical cop she'd ever known. And the kindest, most compassionate, best man she'd ever known. Her father, her brothers, her late husband were all good men, but none fought the odds Bobby Goren had. It was that fight, Alex thought, that turned Bobby Goren into a remarkable man. It had nearly destroyed him, and it continued to assault him, but it had made him. And she missed him. Missed him terribly.

The arrival of his first letter, enclosed in a plain white envelope that she almost mistook for a bill or an annoying request for money thrilled her. She responded to it almost immediately, and for the past months the sporadic appearances of Bobby's letters were the brightest spots in her life. He said little in the letters—Alex sensed there were many things he couldn't and wouldn't say—and the first ones were filled with his apologies for ruining her life. These comments finally eased after Alex repeatedly wrote that he wasn't responsible for her decision.

"It was a sign, Bobby," she wrote him several times in several ways. "You weren't responsible. It was Moran. Or Massa. Or a whole lot of someones and somethings."

She didn't write Bobby about the calls from Massa and other members of the Brass pleading with her to return. She didn't write him about her occasional coffee sessions with Zach Nichols, where the tall, lanky detective revealed his increasing disenchantment with the NYPD and police work. And she revealed only a few details of the turmoil in the department. She was always happy when one of the blank, anonymous looking envelopes containing Bobby's letters arrived. The sheets—often only a single sheet—were frequently battered, suggesting they'd been through rough handling. The one that pleased her the most informed her that Bobby's mission was over and he was returning to New York. He couldn't give her a date, but he promised he'd call her as soon as he arrived, that is if she wanted to talk to him. She responded immediately with a letter of her own telling him that of course she wanted to speak to him, to see him, and sent it to the PO Box all of her past letters went.

She'd returned from a wonderful weekend with her nephew Nate to find her answering machine blinking at her. She sighed and briefly considering ignoring the machine. It was probably some solicitations, maybe a few calls from headhunters, or, worst of all, guys asking her out on dates. But she finally punched the red button, and her heart jumped at the sound of Bobby's voice.

"Uh...Al...Eames...Uh...I'm back...And...You said you wanted to see me. I know I want to see you. A lot. And...I...I have something I'd like to talk to you about. But...Uh...Mostly I'd like...Really like to see you. My cell is still the same number."

Alex smiled at Bobby's familiar, hesitant, shy voice. "He never wants to upset anyone," she thought. "Which is why he upsets people sometime."

She forgot her bags, including the one filled with dirty and soggy clothes (much of the past three days had been spent chasing Nate around a water park), and how tired she was, and found her cell phone. She punched Bobby's number—she'd never removed it from her phone, even when she was furious with him during and after his suspension—and waited for it to ring.

Bobby picked up at the end of the second ring.

"Eames...Thank you for calling back." His voice was husky and anxious.

"It was great to hear your voice. It is great to hear it."

She heard something that sounded like a stifled yawn.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "Did I wake you up?"

"Yea, but don't worry. I'd rather hear from you than sleep. And I've got to get my body back on New York time."

"How long have you been back?"

"Just a couple of days." Alex could see him rubbing the back of his neck in her mind. "God, it's good to hear you."

"It's good to hear you again too. And I'd really like to see you again."

"Same here."

"I'm free tomorrow. Would breakfast at that diner near your place work?"

"Right now, I'm free." She saw his wistful smile in her mind. "What time?"

Alex calculated how long it would take to get her laundry done and try to get enough sleep. "Ten?"

"Dangerously close to brunch."

"I don't think that place serves anything quite as rich as brunch," Alex laughed. "But its breakfasts are wonderful."

"Ok. I'll see you there about ten," Bobby said. "I...I missed you."

"I missed you too." Alex tightly gripped her phone. "I'm glad you're back, Bobby."

"Thank you, Alex," Bobby said after several moments. His voice was soft and husky. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Alex replayed the conversation through her head as she did her laundry and tried to sleep. She left early to make her meeting with Bobby, and it was nine thirty when she eased into the parking spot. She wasn't surprised to discover Bobby waiting for her in the diner. He sat at a booth in the back, close to the emergency exit and with a clear view of most of the diner. A newspaper and a magazine were open on the table next to a cup of coffee. Responding to their ESP link, Bobby looked up just as Alex walked through the door. He smiled as he stood, and Alex's heart fluttered.

She studied him as she walked towards him. He was leaner than she remembered, tanned, and his hair longer. He wore an elegant navy blue suit that was a shade too big for him. He was clean shaven, but his hair just long enough to show off his curls. It was the way she liked his hair. He looked good in spite of the dark circles under his eyes and the anxiety rippling under his skin.

"Bobby." She was inches from him and she didn't know what to do. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to hold him and make sure he was solid and real, but she didn't know what he wanted.

"Eames. God...You look great. Really great."

He extended his hand. Alex took it, hesitated, and then wrapped her arms around him as far as they would go. He stiffened, and then wrapped his arms around her. Alex let his strength and scent and presence flood over and around her.

"Hate to break this up, guys, but do you want something to eat?" The waitress grinned at them.

Their cheeks red, Bobby and Alex separated. They ordered breakfast and waited in an uneasy silence for their food. There was so much to say, and neither of them knew how to say it.

Bobby finally leaned forward. "How's Nate? He must be in regular school now, right?"

Alex beamed, and pulled out her cell phone to show the most recent photos of her nephew. Her account of Nate's activities and accomplishments continued through their food's arrival and two quarters of the way though Alex's pancakes.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "I'm monopolizing the conversation."

"It's all right," Bobby said. He dipped his spoon in and out of his oatmeal. "I'm glad he's doing so well."

"You trying to eat healthy?" Alex nodded at the bowl.

"Uh...Yea..."

"It's ok?"

"It's not bad. It's just...Where I've been the past few months. This would feed someone for at least a day."

"You having some trouble adjusting to this world?"

"A little," he admitted. "I mean...I'm glad. Really glad...I'm back. Being able to sleep in a real bed with clean sheets and pillows. And seeing you again." He smiled. "But it's a bit of an adjustment." He shrugged. "But I've been through this sort of thing before. 'Course, I was younger the last time."

Alex leaned forward. "Didn't they give you some time to decompress?"

"They had to get me out pretty quick," Bobby said. "I can tell you that Mr. Hassan is no longer a factor in anyone's plans."

"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better," Alex said.

"I have to admit that I think the world is a better place without Hassan," Bobby said. "Although there will probably be lots of people willing to take his place. I think the news about Hassan made Zach Nichols feel better."

"When did you see Nichols?"

"London. They let me out there for a while when I was being debriefed. I'm not sure who Nichols knew, but he knew I was there and wanted to see me. We had a good lunch. He said you were one of the best captains he'd ever seen."

Alex smiled. "Considering I was only a captain for fifteen minutes, I don't know if that's a compliment."

Bobby smiled sadly. "I think it was. He said you showed more guts in those few minutes than most cops do in their entire careers."

Alex stared at her plate. Her hair fell and created a veil over her face. "The captain of the Major Case Squad has had a high turnover rate lately."

"Did you know the last captain?"

"In passing. She was in one of the women's officer groups for a while. But she got some assignment that took her out of the loop. I think she was something like Ross. She knew Moran before he became, well, whatever he became. I don't think she was one of his allies."

"Nichols liked her," Bobby said. "But he thought she was under a lot of pressure, and not just because of the job."

"I've been out of the loop for a while," Alex said. "I was out of town for a while on a job. Not as glamorous as yours..."

"Mine was glamorous only if you like sand without beaches," Bobby sighed.

"I haven't heard who the new captain is. Except some rumblings that some of the Brass wants Jimmy Deakins back," Alex said.

Bobby stirred his oatmeal again. "We both know that isn't going to happen."

Alex studied him. "You've been in the city for what, forty eight hours, and you know something?"

Bobby shifted in his seat. "The person...He contacted me actually. I know I never talked much about my other partners..."

"No. And when you did, it wasn't good usually.."

"Well, you more than made up for all of the bad ones," Bobby said quickly. "But I had a great partner in Narcotics. Bill Hannah."

"The guy you saved when you got your Medal of Honor."

Bobby blushed and lowered his eyes, always his reaction whenever any of his heroics were mentioned. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"It was a very big deal," Alex stated. "I've looked it up. My union rep looked it up when she was dealing with the Brass."

Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"You should've pushed it, Bobby," Alex continued. "Maybe you should still. What with everything that's come out about Moran lately."

"You didn't push," Bobby said quickly. "And you had better reasons to. I pushed...Broke the rules enough times."

"I threatened to push," Alex said. "And that was enough to save my pension. That, and it doesn't look good to persecute the widow of a hero cop. Especially when the hero's cop murder was bungled so badly."

"And I didn't burn my bridges completely," Bobby said, trying to change the subject. "Do you ever think about going back?"

"As badly as you were treated, you'd think about going back?"

"If the conditions were right," Bobby said carefully. "Major Case...Working with you at Major Case...It was the best. In spite of the politics and the pressure, it was great."

Alex examined him closely. "Ok," she said "What's going on?"

"Bill Hannah's the new Major Case captain. "And he wants me there."

Alex straightened. "Wow."

"I...I would've come to you first," Bobby said. "But you were out of town and..."

"Bobby." Alex leaned forward and touched his hand. "It's ok. You don't have to report in with me." Her hand rested on his. "What did you tell him?"

Bobby took a deep breath. "I told him I'd come back. But only if you came back too. To be my partner."

END Chapter TWO


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Alex's grip on Bobby's hand briefly tightened. Her head spun. In the past months, she'd frequently wondered what she'd do if the NYPD wanted her back. It was, after all, her second home, second family. Her family claimed that if you cut any one of them, they'd bleed blue, even the civilians and the firemen. In these past months, Alex frequent felt she was bleeding blue from thousands of cuts inflicted by the NYPD. And here was a chance to return to the department that had hurt her, and to return with Bobby Goren. And for all that had happened to her with Bobby Goren—some people would say because of Bobby Goren—Alex realized she wanted to work with him, even if it meant returning to the NYPD. The thought hit Alex with the force of the softball that Mary Alice Kowalski threw at her accidentally in seventh grade. She now regarded Bobby Goren more highly than she did the department.

Alex looked across the table at Bobby. He stared into the oatmeal, and Alex thought he hadn't taken a breath since he'd spoken.

"And what did Hannah say to that?" Alex asked, as much to get Bobby to breathe as to ask the question.

"He...He wants you back. I'm pretty sure he wanted you back before he talked to me. If you called him right now, I'm sure he'd take you, with or without me. Probably be happier without me. Like he said, he'd be an idiot not to want you."

"Bobby." Alex gently squeezed his hand. "Breathe."

Bobby took a deep breath. "It's just...I didn't want you to think. You're important, Eames. You're a great cop. Talk about me being the best. You're the best. The absolute best. It's why I...If I'm going to do this job, I want to work with the best. I can't go back..."

"Bobby. Remember to breathe. I understand."

"It's just...You're no one's water carrier," Bobby said with sudden ferocity. "You never were."

"I know that," Alex said gently. "But you're putting a lot of responsibility on me."

"I don't mean to do that." Bobby was shy and contrite again. "It's like I said. You...You're the best. You make everything great. I know what it's like without you. I don't want that. Not after being with you."

"Just work?"

Bobby trembled and stared at their hands. "I...I don't know what to say. I...I'm not even sure what I should call you. Those nights..." He swallowed. "Those memories...They kept me going."

"They've helped me, too," Alex said. "Even though I'm not sure what we are either."

Bobby couldn't look directly at her. "I know. We haven't talked about those times. Except to say we should talk about them."

"Yea." Alex smiled.

"I...I don't know why you...Why you...But I'm so grateful...Grateful doesn't begin to cover it...Those times...After that interview with Gage...I don't know what I would've done without you. And no one...No one...Could've done for me what you did."

Alex didn't know what to say. The night after the revelation of Declan Gage's perverted plan to "save" Bobby, Alex brought Bobby back to her house. She had no idea what she would do for him, but she wasn't going to leave him alone. She didn't think he'd hurt himself, at least not deliberately. But in his current state mind, Alex could easily see Bobby wandering into traffic or disappearing into a bar or becoming the victim of cops who agreed with whoever put that thing in his desk. He followed her wordlessly out of Major Case. In the parking garage he started towards the subway, but Alex gently guided him to her car. He slumped in the passenger seat, scarcely aware of anything, even when Alex handed him his leather binder. She considered driving to his home, but she was exhausted herself and wanted to deal with him on her turf.

"Where...Where are we going?" Bobby finally was aware of his surroundings.

Alex started at his voice. "My place," she said firmly.

"You don't have to..."

"Yes, I do. More than that, I want to."

He said nothing through the rest of the drive and followed her silently inside her house. He stopped just inside the front door and stared at the new floor that had taken the place of the one stained with Alex's blood. Alex closed the door behind them, effectively cutting off any escape. She felt the desperation and exhaustion radiating from him.

"Here," she said gently. "Let me hang up your jacket. You should sit down before you collapse."

He removed his jacket slowly, as if his arms weighed too much for him to lift. He lurched to the couch and fell heavily on it. Alex hung up his jacket and followed him into the living room. She looked at him, and, as it had many times in the past few days, her heart broke for him. She stood in front of him, and he stared at the floor.

"Oh, Bobby. I wish I could help you. That I could do something for you."

Bobby took a deep breath and shivered. He slumped forward and caught his head in his hands.

"Why?" he murmured. "I've tried to be a good man. I've tried to do the right thing. I gave up my career in the Army. I didn't pursue other careers. I gave up girlfriends. I gave stuff up so I could take care of my mom. I tried to help Frank. Even when he turned on me. Used me. I've always tried to do the right thing as a cop. Even when it wasn't popular. But...You and me...We've got the best solve rate in the NYPD. I got a Medal of Honor. Maybe I didn't deserve it, but I go it, and you'd think it'd mean something. You know what my mom said when I showed it to her?"

Alex sat next to him.

"She asked me how many parking tickets I had to write to get it. And my brother wanted to know how much you could sell it for. Did I ever tell you I got a couple of medals from the Army?"

"You never told me, Bobby, but it doesn't surprise me. You're a good and brave man." She wasn't sure if he heard her.

"They disappeared. It was a time when Frank was staying with me. Claimed he was clean. Things started disappearing. Including the medals."

Alex's hand flew to her mouth. She knew Frank Goren was capable of terrible things, but stealing and pawning Bobby's medals seemed low even for him. But the man had left Bobby to suffer torture in a prison where Frank knew the guards killed prisoners.

"I found the pawn ticket," Bobby continued. "The going rate for a Purple Heart is awfully low."

"Oh, Bobby." Alex touched his arm. "Did you get them back?"

"I didn't care about them really. In the end, they're just bits of shiny metal. But what they represent, and that Frank only saw them as a way to get money to get high or gamble..."

"And you...You kept giving him more chances."

"Yea." Bobby laughed bitterly. "I'm supposed to be this genius. And I'm the biggest fool..." He laughed harder, and it terrified Alex.

"Bobby." She reached for him, but he jerked back. The laugh grew louder and wilder, and Alex didn't know what to do. He laughed until he began to sob, and Bobby collapsed into her arms. The couch shook with the force of his sobs. Alex clung to him. Bobby began to mumble, but it was several moments before Alex could understand him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said over and over.

"Bobby. Why...What have you done?"

Sheer exhaustion calmed him.

"Aren't you afraid of being around the son of Mark Ford Brady?" he asked. "The protégé of Declan Gage? The son of an insane mother?" he whispered.

"No," Alex said firmly and gently. "Even if you're all of those things, you're also a brave, good man. Every day you proves that, by your actions, by what you do in spite of the horrible things done to you."

Bobby looked at her with great, sad eyes. "I wish...I wish I could believe that." He blinked.

"C'mon." Alex stood up and took Bobby's hands.

"What?"

"You're not staying on this couch," Alex declared. "It's way too small. And horrible on your back."

For a moment, Alex feared he couldn't or wouldn't stand, but he finally lurched to his feet. He stumbled behind her. He stopped in her bedroom's door.

"I...Uh..."

"The guestroom is full of stuff," Alex said. "And you've been here before. All those times you helped me fight my nightmares."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm returning many, many favors," Alex said.

"Those nightmares were my fault."

"Did you kidnap me? Did you hurt me?"

"I might as well have..."

Alex walked to him. "No. You may have shut me out, not talked to me, but you were and are not guilty of that."

She took his hands and pulled him to the bed. "Sit," she told him gently. After he sat on the bed, she knelt and pulled off his shoes and socks. He fumbled with his shirt.

"Here," Alex said. "Let me help you."

"Oh, Alex," he whispered. "If only I could get my brain to stop for a while."

It may have been the longing and loneliness in his voice; it may have been the warmth of his breath; it may have been the soft touch of his hand on her cheek; it may have even been his use of her first name. Whatever its cause, Alex desperately wanted, needed to help him.

"Oh, Bobby," she whispered, and kissed him on the mouth.

And then they were lying together on the bed. Bobby kissed as her as if the act could save and redeem him. They finally broke the kiss so that he could take off his T-shirt. He hovered over her.

"Alex...Are you sure about this?"

To answer, Alex pulled off her tank top and released her bra. Bobby gasped, and she pulled his hands to her breasts.

"Yes," she murmured. "Oh, yes, yes."

The next moments were a wonderful, overwhelming blur. Alex had heard something about Bobby's skills as a lover, but she'd dismissed most of the talk as wild speculation. But, whether because of Bobby's desperate need or her or her own need for him and to comfort him, Alex had never experienced anything so intense and wonderful. There was pain when he entered her, but even that was a strange pleasure. He flowed over and around and in her, and Alex thought she might die. And then she didn't care.

She slowly returned to the world. At some point Bobby slipped from her body, and he lay spent across her body. His head rested just below her breasts, and the air cooled her glistening body. As she regained control of her body, Alex ruffled Bobby's curls. He trembled.

"It's all right," she whispered. "You didn't hurt me. It was wonderful. You were wonderful."

He tried to raise his body.

"It's all right," she said again. She reached for the sheets and blankets and pulled them over their bodies.

The rich smell of coffee woke Alex. She stretched and blinked at the bright sun. "Bobby," she thought, and turned on the bed. Bobby lay on his side next to her, his great, dark, sad eyes looking at her. He wore his T-shirt and his boxers, and Alex was suddenly aware she was naked. She shivered.

"Here," Bobby said and pulled his shirt from the floor. He handed it to Alex and rolled off the bed. "I'll get you some coffee."

Alex swam in his shirt. It smelled of his cologne and scent, and she reveled in its soft cotton. There was a gentle knock on the door.

"It's all right," Alex said. "I'm decent. And it's not like you haven't seen it everything."

Bobby carefully entered. He carried two cups. "Uh...I made coffee. I think it might be strong enough even for you."

Alex took her cup and sipped it gratefully. "Oh," she said. "That's good. Thank you. And for the shirt.

Bobby smiled shyly at her. "You look much better in it than I ever did." He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, Alex...I don't know what I would have done without you last night. And what you did for me..."

Alex leaned forward and took his hand. "Hey. You gave me something too. And not just the shirt and this great coffee."

"I...I didn't hurt you? Or force you?"

Alex smiled at him. "Not at all. You were wonderful."

He shivered and sat heavily on the bed. "Good. Good. I was so afraid. Ever since I found out about...About..."

"Brady."

"I keep thinking about the women I've been with...And wondering if I ever forced or hurt anyone...If I'm like him..."

Alex nearly dropped her coffee. She managed to put it on the side table. "Bobby Goren. Look at me."

He stared at the floor.

"Look at me and listen to me." She tightened her grip on his arm. "You are nothing like Brady. Or Gage. Or your brother. Or the man you thought was your father."

"You...You didn't know them. Or you didn't know them well."

"I knew them well enough. I certainly know you."

"You...You believe that I'm a good man? All the stuff I've pulled and done to you, and you believe that?"

"And all the people you've saved and helped and the way you've made me see things and made me a better cop and person?" Alex smiled. "Yea. I believe it."

Bobby's free hand moved to cover his mouth.

"Remember what you always say?" Alex asked. "What happens to people explains why they do things, but it's not an excuse. A person makes choices. And you, Bobby, chose to be a good man. You're not perfect. No one is. But you're a good man."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

RETURN

CHAPTER FOUR

They made love again. Bobby was heartbreakingly kind and gentle, treating Alex with great care and memorizing her responses to his kisses and caresses. After, as she lay exhausted across his chest, she knew she'd never be able to consider being with another man.

"Alex, this is wonderful. So wonderful." Bobby's long fingers weaved in and out of her hair. "But...I think...I think...I should..."

Alex raised her head to look into his eyes. "You need some time by yourself?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I...You...This is wonderful. You...I'm sure of. Oh, God...Alex...You're the one thing I'm sure of. But everything else..."

"Bobby. It's understandable. You've lost your mother. Your brother. You found out that your biological father was a monster. That your mother betrayed the man you thought was your father. And now you've discovered your mentor is losing your mind and trying to save you by destroying you."

"It sounds like a really bad soap opera," Bobby said. For a moment Alex was afraid he might become hysterical again. "I was thinking about visiting some relatives."

Alex looked up with interest. "I didn't know you had relatives."

"I didn't either," Bobby said wistfully. "They're from my Mom's side. An aunt of hers married this blonde Norwegian guy and moved out to Minnesota. One of my...I guess it'd be a second cousin of mine...Was doing genealogy. Contacted me." His hands continued to roam through her hair. "They want to meet me, Alex. They...They know something about my Mom, and they still want to meet me. They think it's cool that I'm a New York City police detective. At least, I guess I still am."

"You are. Ross never thought you killed anyone."

Bobby's hands ceased their roving for a moment. "I...I owe him an apology. A huge apology. And Rodgers."

"You've apologized to her," Alex said gently. "And she understood."

"I should never have put her in that position," Bobby said. "Why did I have to know..."

"Because you're Robert Goren. Knowing things, learning things is what you do. What you are."

"Yea. Maybe. But this is one time where I wish I didn't need to know. It's hurt too many people."

"So, you're thinking about driving west?" Alex felt the need to get Bobby's mind off to hurts to anyone.

"Yea. Just drive the Mustang out there. Clean my head. See a different part of the world."

"You'll come back?"

Bobby squeezed her gently. "Yea...I will."

And he did come back. His leave was scheduled for at least another week—one of his phone calls to Alex told her that he was just leaving his cousins' farm and that he hoped to take a long, leisurely drive back to New York. His presence at the ferry terminal stunned and thrilled her, and Alex didn't try to hide her feelings. But he was shy and cautious around her. He showed her pictures of his relatives with quiet and great pride, especially the ones of his young second cousin who called him "Uncle Bobby."

"They look like really nice people," Alex said.

"They are. Very good people." Bobby sipped his coffee. "First relatives I've run into who are...normal. Or at least what I've been told is normal.

"I'm not sure there is a normal," Alex mused.

She was thrilled to have him back and to be working with him. His gifts were intact, and his confidence in them grew steadily with every case. But every night he went to his home, and she went to hers. He said nothing, did nothing, to indicate he remembered the night they'd spent together with any affection, or that he remembered it at all. Every time she left Major Case and left him at his desk, or when she dropped him at his home, her heart broke a little.

The moment she knew he was really back was when Bobby quietly looked at her and Ross and walked Devildis to the house.

"We don't have much time," Ross said. "That is, if the girl's alive."

"Bobby knows that." Alex looked up at the house. She could just make out Bobby and Devildis' forms through the large windows. "If anyone can reach him, it's Bobby."

Several agonizing minutes later, Bobby rushed from the house. He'd left Devildis inside and waved at several uniforms to take care of the disturbed man. Bobby shouted an address to Ross and Alex. The resulting drive was one of the longest short trips Alex ever remembered.

"Do you think she's still alive?" Alex asked as she clutched the steering wheel.

Ross, seated in the back seat, stared out the window. "It's not that dark or cold yet," he said, but Alex sensed he was whistling in the dark.

"She wants to live," Bobby said firmly. "She really wants to live. She had enough brains and strength to leave a message in spite of the horrible shocks she's received. Her will will help her."

And Bobby was right. The girl was exhausted and cold and hurt. Her voice was nearly gone from her desperate attempts to shout for help, and her wrists were raw from her struggle to free herself. For one terrible moment, Alex remembered the wretched state of her own hands after her escape from Jo Gage. But the girl was alive, and grateful. She asked to see the policeman who'd figured out her message and helped to find her. Her voice was a horrible rasp as she spoke with Alex and Bobby, who promised to see her as soon as they could. Ross caught a ride with a state police captain.

"We'll settle the jurisdiction issues," Ross said. "Don't worry. You'll get the credit for this."

"We've got the credit we want," Bobby said softly as he watched the ambulance doors close.

"What time is it?" Bobby asked as Alex pulled the SUV away from the cemetery.

"Terribly late or horribly early." Alex yawned.

"You want to find a hotel near here? Go into the city tomorrow? I'm not sure either of us should really be driving."

"You must really be tired to admit that," Alex said.

Bobby smiled wanly. "I'm trying to listen more to my body. And my partner. And I think both are telling me to get some sleep."

Alex pulled into the first hotel she saw, a tiny place undergoing renovations.

"They only have one room," Bobby said apologetically when he returned to the car after speaking with the desk clerk. He stared at his feet. "But the room has two beds."

"That works for me," Alex said. "It's either that or sleeping in the SUV. And any bed should be more comfortable."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh...If you want...I could..."

"Oh, no. You're more tired than I am. You're not going to sleep out in the car."

"Ok."

Experience had taught Alex and Bobby to always carry an overnight bag on any trip away from New York City. Bobby dropped his bag and flopped on the bed closest to the door. "You can use the bathroom first," he said.

"Ok," Alex said. "But if I don't come out in a half hour, come in and get me. I may fall asleep in the shower."

Bobby tried to force the image of a wet and naked Alex Eames our of his mind, a task made more difficult by the fact he'd actually seen her wet and naked. "Oh, God," he mumbled, and rolled over to shove his face into a pillow.

Alex managed to stay awake through her shower. She emerged in a cloud of steam from the bathroom.

"It's all yours," she said.

She looked at Bobby. He lay on his side. He was deeply asleep, and Alex felt something grab at her heart. She walked to his bed, and gently eased off his shoes. He stirred slightly but didn't wake up. She eased a blanket over him, and as she straightened, she felt a terrible hunger for him, a hunger made worse because it'd been satisfied once. She fell back into the other bed and pulled a pillow over her face. "Oh, God," she mumbled.

In spite of her memories and dreams, Alex was exhausted enough that she fell into a deep sleep after a few moments. Strangled cries jolted her out of that sleep. She fought out of the blankets and flicked on the light next to her bed. She saw Bobby twisting on his bed.

"Bobby," she said softly, and moved towards him.

"No...No...No...Please...Not enough time...We have to find her. Please...No..." Bobby seemed to be running towards something.

Alex hesitated. She didn't know how she should wake him. "Bobby," she said gently and firmly. "Wake up. You're having a bad dream." She carefully touched him on the shoulder.

Bobby sprang into a sitting position. His arms flailed wildly, and Alex jus managed to jump out of their way. He blinked, stared wild-eyed around the room, and gasped for breath. His eyes finally found Alex.

"It's ok," she said. "You're safe. It's ok."

"Sorry...Sorry," Bobby rasped.

"You need some water." She started to move towards the bathroom.

"No...Alex...Eames. Don't go." He reached for her and jerked back. "Sorry...Sorry...I..."

"It's all right," Alex said gently. "I will be back. I promise."

When she returned with a glass of water, Bobby hadn't moved. She handed him the glass.

"Thank you," he said softly. He drained the glass and sat it on the table next to his bed.

"Bad dreams?" Alex carefully perched on the edge of Bobby's bed.

"Yea. My encounter with Devildis." Bobby shook his head. "Didn't go so well in the dream."

"I knew if anyone could get a good result out of that mess, it'd be you," Alex said. "I think Ross knew it too."

"Was...Was he worried about me? Did he say anything?"

"He wasn't as confident as I was. But if he e knew if anyone could do it, it'd be you. He knew you wouldn't hurt Devilidis. He trusted you."

"That's good to know," Bobby said. "I owe that man. A lot, including an apology."

"He owes you a few of those two," Alex said. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to give him a complete pass."

"Yea, but you never gave him as much grief," Bobby said wryly. "A physical threat wouldn't mean anything to Devildis. Just confirm his sense of martyrdom." Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I remembered to have him put on suicide watch, right."

"Yea. You told a lot of people," Alex said.

"I'm the person who showed him what he was," Bobby said softly. "I don't have any credentials or authority to mess with anyone's head. I owe him something."

"Bobby." Alex touched his arm. "You saved the girl's life. You saved her grandmother's life. You may have saved Devildis' life."

"He won't last long in prison. He's so depressed that he won't try to defend himself." Bobby slipped off his jacket. "I'll need to get that pressed and cleaned."

"I'll hang it up."

"Of course," Bobby said. "It may become a state, even federal, case. He may still face the death penalty. All of this may be out of our hands."

Alex sat again on his bed. "And you wouldn't mind that. Even if you don't get the credit you deserve."

"We. We deserve. But I gotta admit. I really don't want to deal with this case any longer than I have to."

"I gotta agree with you," Alex said. "The sight of that poor dog is gonna haunt me for a while."

"Probably came right up to him. Wagging his tail." Bobby rubbed his eyes. "Oh, God, Alex. Sometimes I don't think I can do this any more."

Alex leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him. He stiffened for a moment, and then returned the gesture. "I feel that way a lot of times too. I felt it a lot when you were gone."

"I...I'm sorry," Bobby whispered. "I know. Since I got back. We really haven't...Me, mostly...Haven't talked about that night. I don't know how to talk about it. It meant so much. I think you and it saved my life. Certainly my sanity. It was so wonderful that sometimes I think it was a dream, or if I talk about it, it'll disappear."

"I think...Maybe...I feel the same way," Alex said. "Oh...It feels so good to be held by you...To be holding you."

"Yes. Yes. But Alex...I'm so tired. I'm afraid...I'd love to make love to you, but it's not going to happen tonight. And there's so many complications."

"I've thought about that too," Alex said. "And right now, like you, I'm too tired."

"Uh...Could you...Would you...Uh...Just sleep with me?" Bobby asked shyly. "I...I think it might help me..."

"I think it might help me too," Alex said. She moved next to him on the bed and placed several pillows behind her. "Here," she said, and gently pulled Bobby to her. He pulled the sheet and blankets over them.

"Thank you, Alex, thank you."

Things were between them after that. Bobby returned to full strength. Ross continued to become more tolerant and trusting. Alex was so pleased with these changes that others failed to grab her full attention.

"Have you seen Moran around lately?" Bobby asked one morning.

"No," Alex answered. "And I can't say that I've missed him."

Bobby smiled. "I haven't missed him either. And I'm glad I don't feel like I have to run out of the office every time he shows up. But I wonder what it means for Ross."

"I don't think," Alex said. "That Moran was what Ross expected. Or Ross what Moran expected."

Alex observed Ross more closely after this conversation and paid more attention to her connections around the department. What she learned confirmed Bobby's comments. Danny Ross seemed increasingly disenchanted with NYPD politics and frustrated by the limits placed on him by his role as a captain. His murder shocked her, but not his work with the FBI. In the end, Alex discovered she wasn't that shocked by anything, not by her sudden and brief ascendancy to Major Case captain, not by her forced firing of Bobby, not by Bobby's quiet acceptance of that firing. Not even by Bobby's appearance at her front door the evening of that firing.

"You quit," he said when she opened the door.

"I did. And don't beat yourself up over it. It wasn't because of you. Well," she said in response to his look. "Not just because of you."

He stood uncertainly in her doorway. "You...You should've..." He shook his head. "I don't have any right to complain about you not telling me something."

Alex smiled sadly. "You're getting better. Much better. Don't just stand there. Come in."

Bobby lurched into the room. "I'm sorry. About earlier." He shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinking. To hug you...And kiss you. In your office. And then to say, "I'll see you around." God, how stupid could I be?"

Alex gently touched his arm. "I wasn't thinking clearly either. But as for that kiss and hug. I think I hugged you first."

"I'm not sure about that. My memory is pretty foggy." He stared at the floor. "God. Alex. You resigned. You...You bleed blue. This is what you've wanted since you were in the Academy."

"Bobby." Alex laid her hands on his chest. "Maybe that's what I wanted then. But I'm not the same person. And that's a good thing. I've learned a lot since then, including that I don't want to be part of the Brass. I want to be a good cop and a good person. And you made me see that. And helped me to be part of that."

"But now...You're not a cop..."

Alex smiled. "Oh, I don't know about that. I got home and found two job offers on my machine. One was from Jimmy Deakins, who wanted you to know you're welcome to come work for him too."

Bobby rubbed his neck. "Uh, I may have a job already."

"The FBI? Taking Ross's place?"

He nodded. "But I wanted to talk with you first."

"Well, come over to the couch and talk to me."

They talked, talked in way they never had, in spite of their psychic links. Alex pointed out the potential dangers of the mission. Bobby acknowledged them and pointed out the safety measures in place to protect him. His argument didn't convince Alex, but she accepted his need to do this for their late captain. She even accepted the role of his contact and beneficiary.

"You know I'm ok financially. I've got my and Joe's pensions."

"I know," Bobby said. "But I don't know where Donnie is, and my cousins are good. And if anything does happen, you can give the money to Nate."

"I thought you said nothing's going to happen?" Alex placed her hand on the back of his neck.

"Nothing will," Bobby said. "Especially if we plan for it."

He smiled sadly at her, and she kissed him. She took his hand, stood, and led him to the bedroom. They made love, each trying to memorize everything they could about each other. Alex woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sight of a fully dressed Bobby standing by her bed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go soon. I thought about waking you up, but you looked so beautiful and happy. I wanted to have that memory."

Alex sat up and was suddenly conscious she was naked. Bobby handed her a T-shirt from the floor.

"You're very beautiful," he murmured. He handed her the coffee cup. "I'm an idiot. To have waited so long to be with you. To wait so long to be with you again. And then to leave you...Maybe I am..."

"Don't say it," Alex said firmly. "You're not...You've never been...A whack job."

He smiled sadly. "Maybe not that. But you gotta admit. Some of my actions. Not smart."

Alex knelt on the bed. "Maybe not in doing what's best for you. But certainly for what's right."

"I will stay in touch. As much as I can. Please understand, Alex. I'm not suicidal. I don't want to die. Not now."

"What should I tell Nate when he asks about you?"

Bobby smiled. "Tell him I'm doing super secret stuff. And I'll try to have something for him when I get back." He knelt by the bed. "What can I bring for his aunt?"

Alex leaned forward so that her forehead touched his. "You can come back in one piece."

He kissed her. "I will do everything that I can to do that." He stood, gave her one last, longing look, and left.

And that was the last time she saw him before she met him in that coffee shop.

"Oh," Bobby said. "I've not come empty handed." He lifted a bag from the floor. "For .Nate...And for you."

"What is this?" Alex surveyed a long box. "It's not a weapon, is it?"

"Uh...Sorta...It's a sword. But not a real one. It's a toy. It's made of wood and has dull edges. One of the tribes in the area give them to boys when they're around Nate's age to show they're about to become warriors."

"I'm not sure Nate's warrior tendencies should be encouraged," Alex smiled.

Bobby frowned, and Alex touched his hand. "Don't worry, Bobby. He'll love it. At the very least, he can hang it in his room and impress his friends."

The tension left Bobby's body. "You can tell I don't have kids."

"What's the other package?"

"That is for Nate's aunt."

"You've already given her her present. You came back."

"Nate's aunt is pretty special," Bobby said gently." She deserved more"

Alex's hand hovered over the box. "Can she open it?"

"She can..."

Alex carefully untied the ribbon around the box. She lifted the lid, and pulled a slender, golden thread from it. A small, cool blue, highly detailed figure of an angel wearing armor and carrying a sword dangled from it.

"St. Michael," Alex said reverentially.

"Yes," Bobby said. "There's a Christian sect in the area, and some of their monasteries help support themselves by making religious items. I saw this, and thought of you." He shrugged. "Of course, I thought of you a lot."

"I haven't needed St. Michael's protection as much as I used to lately," Alex said. She gently touched the angel. "But I suppose if I go back to Major Case, I'll need all the help I can get."

"And maybe St. Jude if you work with me."

Alex smiled. "You're far from a hopeless cause. Can you help me put it on?'

Bobby walked behind her and carefully closed the necklace's clasp. Alex stood and faced him.

"It looks wonderful," Bobby murmured.

Alex rested her hands against his chest.

"I guess it's official," she said. "I'm under St. Michael's protection. And Robert Goren's. I'm back at Major Case."

END


End file.
